The sun was bright; the air was crisp. Leira deemed it a fine morning. She’d just finished breakfast, where she’d stuffed herself full of pastries, knowing that it would be some time before she could enjoy such a good meal again.

She waited in the bustling square, listening to the nasal chatter of the Podexians. She wore the ragged clothes that Gwil had given her. She’d tell Ansoir she didn’t want to soil any of her finery by wearing it into the mines.

Before heading out, Leira had stashed their two backpacks beside the garbage bins behind the inn. She doubted they’d get the chance to retrieve them, so she’d taken out the few useful things that could fit in her purse. Her dress took up most of the space, but she wasn’t going to leave it behind. It was their most valuable possession, anyway.

She ran through imagined scenarios in her head. They’d do it real quiet like. Scope the place out, knock out a couple of guards, grab Gwil, and sneak right out. With some luck, some finesse, and some spores, she even thought it might be possible to do it right under Ansoir’s nose. He was an oblivious nitwit, after all.

Leira placed a hand over her fluttering heart as a smile twisted across her lips. Damn her thirst for excitement—it caused nothing but trouble.

She looked up as a disturbance swept through the crowd. Brock was rolling through the square.

The Talus halted in front of her. Ansoir theatrically threw open the curtains and leaned out of the litter to lord over the crowd.

“Rejoice! I, Ansoir Jaqlov, future Burgermeister, grace you with my presence on this fine morning!”

They hollered and applauded. As Leira took Ansoir’s outstretched hand and climbed up to join him in the litter, she wished these people could have seen the sorry state of their lord last night.

Ansoir held out his hand for Leira to kiss and then pulled it away. “What is with that filthy clothing?”

Leira flopped down into her chair as Ansoir cringed. His hands were outstretched as if he’d intended to catch her before she dirtied the chair’s upholstery.

“I’m not gonna wear nice clothes in a Kaia mine,” Leira said.

“You look like a fucking dirty peasant,” Ansoir hissed as he closed the curtains. “Why not just buy new clothes, you silly woman?”

Leira pouted her lips. “Oh no. I guess I’ll just have to change clothes after, won’t I?”

That shut him up. As if. Fucking idiot.

“Make haste, Brock! To the mines!” He stuck his head out of the curtains. “Out of the way, menials!”

Leira had hoped Ansoir would be hungover and embarrassed, and thus less boisterous. Instead, it seemed he was trying to compensate for last night’s debacle. She decided to sour him.

“What’s up with your mom? Was she always a statue? How’s that work?”

Ansoir stomped his feet on Brock’s head. “That is not my mother!” he shrieked. “My mother is dead. She died when I was a boy. That… thing is an abomination. My father is deranged.”

“How unique,” Leira said.

“It’s not unique. It’s disgusting. A disgrace to her memory.” He clenched his teeth. “Her ashes are mixed with the stone.” Ansoir clutched at his face, tugging at his fat cheeks. “Her death destroyed my father’s mind. You saw how he’s ruined his body with sick experiments. He is a slave to grief and delusion.”

Leira didn’t care about that family’s insanity. They’d earned their misery. She pulled open the curtain to look outside and saw the wall looming ahead. Her hands started sweating.

Ansoir still blustered in his seat like a raging baby. “That piece of shit sheriff,” he spat. “I’ll kill him! I swear, I’ll kill him!”

At his screaming, Brock’s steadiness wavered, and a flock of birds fled from the nearby tree they’d been perching in.

“Don’t think about that stuff, my lord,” Leira said, making her voice sweeter than honey. “Let’s just enjoy our date. Let us revel in the suffering of the slaves.”

“Yes, Lady Leira, of course. You know just how to cheer me up. Let us glory in my wealth and my Kaia.”

“Yeah, let’s do that,” Leira said.

“Why are you going so slowly, Brock?” Ansoir barked. “Don’t be such a coward.”

Leira raised her eyebrows at that.

“None of the Taluses ever go into the mines,” Ansoir explained. “My father says they fear the Kaia, and he thinks such slavish work is beneath his creations.”

Hearing that made Leira want to rip her ears off.

“I’ve not been inside myself in, oh, a decade,” Ansoir said. “It’s a vile place, and it smells like manure and rotting peons. Their ceaseless screaming is very irritating as well. I should’ve brought earmuffs.”

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Leira smiled. “Oh good. It sounds like my traitorous slave must be very miserable!” She clasped her hands. “I can’t wait to see!”

After a short time, they reached the end of the dusty road that led up to the wall. Brock halted in front of the gate. Leira and Ansoir both leaned out.

A guard stood on the catwalk that was mounted on the wall above the gate. The man started flailing upon seeing Ansoir.

“My lord! Forgive me! I wasn’t informed you’d be visiting.”

Ansoir leaned out further. Leira prepared to deal with the both of them if it came to that.

“Am I meant to seek permission to enter my own mines? I should have you executed for that. Open the damn gate, you insolent slime!”

“I would, my lord,” the guard said. “But I’ve just received a report about some sort of disturbance within the prison. A minor thing, I’m sure, but I think I’d better check what-”

The lotus petals whirring, Leira fixed her gaze on the guard and released a narrow stream of red spores. She shrieked, “Open the fucking gate, you inhuman piece of garbage!”

Ansoir looked very proud.

Wobbling, the guard moved to a control panel and pulled the lever. The gate opened. The guard made to turn around, spun like a ballerina, and then flipped over the railing.

Leira grimaced as the man landed hard on his back. She hadn’t meant for him to do that. At least the fall wasn’t that high. He’d probably be fine.

“Bahaha!” Ansoir pointed gleefully at the sputtering man. “He must have passed out with fear at my presence.”

“That’s what he gets for giving you trouble, my lord,” Leira said.

“Indeed! How laughable. What sort of disturbance could there ever be in this shithole?”

“Yes, what could a bunch of worthless slaves do to the future Burgermeister of Podexia?”

“They can kiss the ground where I walk and that’s it,” Ansoir said. He clucked his tongue as if urging a horse. “Move along, Brock. Let us see the place where your soul was unearthed. You and your kin owe everything to these mines.”

Leira grimaced. So, what’s going on in there, Gwil? She should’ve expected he wouldn’t just sit around waiting for her. At least, her timing was good.

They crossed through the wall.

***

One of the Podexians tried to run from him. Cort grabbed the man by the collar and wrenched him onto the ground. He raised his axe to finish him.

And someone grabbed his wrist. Cort ripped free, spun while making to strike back. It was Gwil.

“Hey, man. You don’t gotta kill him,” Gwil said.

“Are you crazy?” Cort barked. “You killed a bunch of them. All gung-ho about breaking out and you’re shy about killing. And you call me a coward?”

“Did I? Well, look at him,” Gwil said, gesturing at the whimpering man. “He’s cooked. Just leave him.”

“They’re all rats,” Cort spat. “Every last one of ‘em. He’ll stab us in the back at the first chance.”

Gwil nudged the guard with his foot. “What’s your name?”

“D-Dwillard,” the man said.

“Do you want us to spare your life, Dwillard?”

The man took his mask off and threw it away. He had a chubby, jolly face. Gwil thought he looked like a goofball.

“Gods, please!” Dwillard cried. “I was sold to Jaqlov. I’m the same as you!”

“See?” Gwil said.

“Fuck that,” Cort growled. “I recognize you, Dwillard. I remember watching your ratfuck face laughing while you watched an old woman get whipped to death. All these guards have been drinking our blood, Gwil.”

“Vampires?” Gwil yelled. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“What?” Cort roared. “No! Goddammit. Listening to you is so painful. I meant they’re violent scum that deserve nothing but death, and definitely not mercy.”

“Oh c’mon,” Gwil said. “Dwillard’s fine.”

“Whatever.” Cort put his boot on Dwillard’s chest. “You won the lottery. Consider yourself spared. Do nothing except sit still and pray for your life. If you cause us a single shred of trouble, I will rip out each of your fingernails, and each of your toenails, and stab them into your eyeballs. I’ll pack ‘em in like the candles in a one-hundred-year-old’s birthday cake.”

Dwillard passed out.

“Alright,” Gwil said, scanning the cavern. “Looks like everyone’s down.”

Cort caught his breath, taking in the sudden calmness. Spur of the moment, he had decided their best option was to lock themselves inside the cavern. They needed time.

He and Gwil had fought their way to the controls for the gigantic blast door that sealed off the cavern in case of an emergency.

The door was slow in closing, so most of the Podexians had managed to escape before it shut.

They’d just finished cleaning up the unlucky bastards who got stuck on the wrong side.

“They’re gonna bring the big machines to bust down the door,” Cort said to Gwil and the other prisoners. “And we can’t open it ourselves cause we destroyed the controls. So, all we can do is wait for them to break through and then give ‘em hell.”

“Oo, do you think they’re gonna use that giant car with the drill on the front?” Gwil asked.

“Probably,” Cort said, rubbing his chin. “They can’t use explosives—they won’t risk the Kaia.” He shook his head. “Whatever they try, the timing’s gonna be razor thin.”

“I have an idea,” Gwil said.

“What?”

“I’ll go out and stop them.”

Cort didn’t bother responding to that. Instead, he went off to find Isca, who was helping get the sickest prisoners in order. They’d managed to get everyone out of the pits. That shivering, murmuring mass of people looked more shocked than excited.

He looked at the bodies strewn throughout the cavern. All Podexians, and most had not fared as well as Dwillard. Not a single prisoner had been killed yet. Cort clenched his teeth. Lucky so far.

***

Gwil flexed the new fingers on his hand. The skin was shiny and pink, still writhing. He grinned. I can run wild with this.

So far, the World was a disgusting disappointment. So much greed and cruelty. Everyone in Podexia seemed afflicted with madness.

And the World was bigger than he’d ever imagined. It looked like there’d be a lot of bad shit to sift through.

But first things first. They needed to fight their way out of here. And that cowboy sheriff had made a fool out of him. Gwil really wanted another chance at that bastard.

Nirva. Even as he fought off all those guards, Gwil could tell he only scratched at the surface of something bottomless. There was so much more.

Those ropes… And Skuld, that old man did impossible things as easily as he breathed. All the stories people tell. Gwil was one of them. He could do that stuff too. He’d make it happen, no matter what.

And Leira said there were thousands of Hallows running around?

That meant he had to become as strong as any of them—stronger—if they were going to cross the whole World and find Ashkana.

But… why, Caris? Why didn’t you want this for me?

Gwil cracked his knuckles. His stomach felt full of frenzied butterflies.

After they got out of the prison, he was gonna beat the shit out of the sheriff. If he couldn’t even do that, then they weren’t gonna make it anywhere, anyway.

Gwil had lied to Cort about that Invoke business. He didn’t have any magic. But earlier, when the collar came off, there was something. He’d only caught a glimpse of a tiny, fleeting thing. Quiet beneath the voices, obscured by the prismatic veil, buried in the ashes.

He just needed to reach out and grab it.